


mad in the blood.

by starletscarlet



Series: lineage in error. [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Murder, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Use, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Gen, Heavy Angst, Infanticide, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Occasional fluff, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Teen Pregnancy, Trauma, Underage Prostitution, Yakuza, Yandere, like a lot of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starletscarlet/pseuds/starletscarlet
Summary: aiko's life has always been a series of chain reactions, each one more horrific than the last.
Relationships: Fukui Ryota/Tanaka Aiko, Oshiro Masaru/Tanaka Aiko
Series: lineage in error. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823605
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Two Sisters

_**July 5th, 1989** _

That morning, Aiko bites her nails to nubs. 

It's a nasty habit, she knows. Her mother has lectured her against it time and time again, going as far as lacquering polish on Aiko's nails herself just to get her to stop. But Aiko has long chipped away at the orange tint and right now, she's hardly got the time to feel guilty over not breaking a bad habit. 

Naturally, Minako still feels the need to point it out to her. "You're not supposed to do that." She scolds through a mouthful of cereal, ever the tattletale. "Mama says so."

"Shut up." Aiko scowls in response, dropping her hands onto her lap. Minako's lip quivers for a split second, and Aiko doesn't hesitate to grip the six year old's arm before she can do or say anything to get her into trouble. "You say anything to her and I'm not gonna play with you."

Minako seemed to weigh the options in her mind before going back to shoveling down her breakfast, the threat evidently enough to keep any meltdowns at bay. Aiko admittedly didn't play with Minako often, no matter how much her sister pestered her to do so. She was much too old to be playing Minako's babyish games, and there was no use in even trying when Minako managed to suck the fun out of everything with her whining.

But Aiko had finally relented today.

At least, that was what she'd wanted Minako to believe. As expected, she was stupid enough to buy anything when it involved her getting her way.

Aiko figures she might as well go check in with their mother before they head out, and so she shuffles off to the living room. She sees her sitting on the loveseat, focus shifting to and fro from the static buzz of one of her dramas on the television and the pile of laundry she was folding. She doesn't seem to notice Aiko is even there, but then again, does she ever?

"Mama." 

"Hm?" Akane doesn't bother to turn around and look. 

"Mina and I are gonna go out and play." 

That seems to get their mother's attention, for Akane turns to Aiko with a raised brow. "You're taking your sister?"

"She wanted to come." Aiko insists, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. She has to remind herself to keep her hands behind her back, but it's become more difficult than it seems. 

_Did Mama already know? Was she too obvious?_

To her surprise and relief, Akane seems pleased. "Well, thank you for letting her tag along." She praises, and Aiko figures she would be able to offer more than a tight lipped smile back if she wasn't feeling so jittery. 

Aiko turns to leave, but Akane is quick to call out to her. "Be back before sundown and make _sure_ to keep an eye on her, alright?"

Aiko nods, knowing she can make good on at least one of those promises.

* * *

The walk out to the creek seems to be the ultimate test of Aiko's patience. 

She's already lost count of how many times Minako has complained. First off, she'd pouted about it being 'too hot'. Aiko could kind of agree with that one; Bellevue had never been particularly warm, so being outside during the summers had a way of making one feel like they'd melt into the sidewalk after being so used to enduring the rest of the year's downpours. Then, it had been another complaint about how her feet hurt. Nothing Aiko could do about that, considering Minako had been the one to opt to wear sandals as opposed to sneakers. Then another one, this time about how long it was taking to get there, and how Minako was bored already and just wanted to go home, and...

Needless to say, Aiko had tuned her out long ago. It wasn't like Minako needed any real response; she knew by now that a simple nod or just an "Uh huh, sure" sufficed to keep a conversation going with her. She could blabber and blabber all she wanted to, while she still had the time. Aiko's mind was preoccupied with more pressing matters, anyways. 

She knows the layout of the creek inside and out by now. It's a personal favorite of hers; just somewhere to go when she wants to be alone, away from everything and everyone. She'd spent a lot of time there this summer in particular, now that she was ten and her mother trusted her enough to go places on her own without Daichi tagging along to supervise her. Aiko liked Daichi a lot better than Minako, that was for sure. Even if their parents made him go with her, he'd still leave her be if she'd asked him to. Still, there was something about having the area all to herself whenever she wanted to now. She didn't get much of anything to herself anymore, not since she was really little and her parents had decided they just _had_ to go and have another baby. Now she had to share everything with Minako: her toys, her books, the TV, their parents' attention. Sometimes, there just wasn't enough of everything to go around, and Aiko would simply have to go without before anyone even dared to consider not giving Minako everything she wanted. 

She didn't want to have to share with Minako anymore. She didn't want to have to do anything with Minako anymore. 

So when Minako sees the sign for the park and begins to take off towards it, Aiko yanks her back with a little more force than she ought to.

"Hey!" Minako yelps, clutching at her wrist in an attempt to pry her sister's hand off. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work. "You said we were gonna go play!"

"Not there, genius." Aiko snipes, though she's trying her best to keep herself in check. She wouldn't put it past Minako to run crying all the way home if Aiko did something to upset her, and with Minako's sensitivity, there wasn't much Aiko could do that _wouldn't_ upset her. "I know somewhere even better." 

Minako's puzzled expression indicates that she doesn't think there's any place that could be better than the playground. Still, she gives her sister the benefit of the doubt with this one, and quits trying to tug her arm from her grasp. "Where?" 

"Just follow me." Aiko instructs, beginning to lead the two of them in the opposite direction from what Minako had assumed to be their intended destination. Aiko thinks luck must be on her side today; she can't imagine what she'd do if she had to pull Minako to the creek, screaming her head off and trying to pull away from her. She'd _definitely_ be done for then. 

Minako trails after her as obediently as a duckling would its mother, and for once, Aiko doesn't mind having her little sister as a tagalong.

* * *

Minako is not nearly as impressed with the creek as Aiko was when she'd first come upon it. Not that Aiko had figured she'd be, really. Minako had always been the type to make a fuss over even the most minor detail being out of place. She was 'Little Miss Picky' about anything and everything, probably because their mother and father allowed her to be. No one ever got to be happy if Minako wasn't, for she was their little 'princess' and they loved her best. 

Aiko would never understand how anyone could love Minako. Six years with her, and all Aiko would ever feel was a rising bitterness whenever she even saw her out of the corner of her eye. Minako was nothing short of a pest, her voice grated on Aiko's nerves whenever she spoke, and her whining always got Aiko into trouble. For the longest time, Aiko had wished Minako would just disappear. Wished she'd just walk off one day and never come back, wished one of those big and terrifying strangers they always warned about in school would come and grab her up. Wished she'd just curl up in a ditch and _die_ , for all she cared. 

"There's nothing to play with here." Minako states the obvious, stomping along the grassy edges of the creek. "And the water's all icky!" She doesn't dare to approach it, but it's not too far off from the truth; the water is a murky greenish-brown, making it impossible to see where it ends. 

"You're being a _baby_ , Mina. It isn't that bad-" Aiko chides, kneeling along the side and swiping a hand through the water. A small bit of it splashes Minako, but by the younger girl's expression as the few dots of water hit her skirt, anyone would think Aiko had just gone right ahead and pushed her in. 

" _Eww!_ " Minako squeals, balling tiny hands into fists. "I'm gonna tell Mama you got my clothes dirty!"

Of course, Aiko knew Minako couldn't last five minutes without threatening to run and alert their mother of some minor infraction. But they'd already gotten this far, and Aiko didn't need her taking off and screwing everything up now. She had to act fast, faster than an impulsive six year old who she knew would make good on her threat if given the opportunity. "I didn't!" Aiko protests, holding out the hand she'd put in. It was wet, obviously, but not dirty. "The water's completely fine, see! Try it."

Minako makes a face, scrunching up her nose, and shakes her head. "No!"

"Just one time. If you still don't like it, we can just go to the playground instead." Aiko offers. 

"Pinky promise." Minako makes a note of extending her hand towards Aiko's dry one. 

Aiko follows through with the gesture without hesitation, figuring humoring her sister would make it easier to get this over with.

Upon agreement to her conditions, Minako acquiesces to Aiko's, kneeling alongside her sister. She has to reach down further than Aiko does in order to really get her hand in the water, and she can't help but cringe when she feels it on her skin. Sure, maybe it isn't as disgusting as she'd thought it be—okay, maybe it _did_ feel like just regular water after all, with no real obvious difference outside of its appearance—but Minako isn't one to admit to being wrong. Just as quickly as her hand is in the water, it's out of it again, and she looks to Aiko expectantly. "Let's go!"

Aiko shakes her head. "You barely put your hand in it. Do it again." 

"Yes, I did!" Minako insists, holding up her hand as evidence. "You can't break your promise, Aiko. That's not fair."

" _I'm_ not breaking the promise, _you_ are." Aiko counters, "You did it wrong."

" _Nuh-uh!_ I touched the water." 

"Barely. You've gotta do it like this." Aiko demonstrates by placing her own hand back into the water. This time, she does more than graze the surface. Rather, she reaches in until the water comes just above her elbow. Minako cringes yet again.

Aiko notes her hesitance; at this point, though, she's starting to grow impatient. She'd thought it would be easier this way, but nothing could ever really be easy if Minako was involved, could it? "Do it or we're going straight home. No playground."

Minako opens her mouth to protest, but Aiko's glare silences her; she considers that a rare feat, given nothing can ever shut Minako up. Then, closing her eyes as though it'll make much of a difference, Minako reaches over to put her arm through the water.

Aiko wills herself to act, for once, instead of thinking first. It's now or never, and with all the force she can muster, she shoves Minako forward into the water.

Huh. Well, maybe the water was deeper than it seemed in Aiko's eyes. Or maybe it was just the fact that Minako wasn't even close to a strong swimmer, which she'd known from the very beginning. It was kind of why she figured a drowning would be the easiest. That, and she wouldn't have to struggle to make it look like an accident. Still, it was taking Minako an awful lot of time to come back up. Was she ever going to come back up? Had it really been just that easy after all?

Aiko's frustration reaches a boiling point when Minako somehow pops right back up, all hysterics and struggling to keep her head above the water. Aiko can't help but think she looks kind of funny this way, black bob matted to her face and sputtering for air, but she's more rage inducing than she is amusing. When Minako goes under again, Aiko reaches in and wastes no time in making sure she stays there. In all honesty, she doesn't think she's ever had this much power over anyone else before, much less Minako. Minako had always gotten her way in everything, even when it had gone directly against whatever Aiko wanted. If Minako wanted something, she got it, even if it had been Aiko's first. If Aiko even dared to stand up to her, then she'd be punished before she even got to explain her side of the story, and that rotten little brat would just stand there and _smile_ like she'd never done anything wrong, because Minako could do no wrong. She'd always been the baby, the beloved daughter, their little angel. Aiko had been the troublemaker, their 'other' daughter, second best no matter what she did. 

And now here was their pampered little angel, at second best's mercy. But Aiko had no mercy to show her. 

For all the years Aiko has known her sister, she's never liked her better than she has now, watching her disappear into the murky water. 


	2. Summer Silence

Aiko finds that the sun is blindingly bright for the occasion as she stares out of the window in the backseat of her mother's car.

Daichi was supposed to have come home yesterday, but their parents had opted to have him spend another night at the Slanes' house instead. She'd heard Mama on the phone with Rebecca, Daniel's mom, telling her that maybe it'd be for the best to give Daichi one more day there, to avoid the shock of coming home to everything that had happened so suddenly. Truth be told, Aiko doesn't think that it's for Daichi's sake so much as it is for Mama and Papa's. Naturally, they'd want to keep up a brave face for their beloved son, so they'd taken the past two days to do everything but. Their father had taken up doing what he did best, locking himself up in his office, shutting out the rest of the world; his family included, though that much went without saying. As for their mother, she'd practically taken up residence in Minako's bedroom, curling up on frilly pink sheets evidently meant for someone much smaller and taking in yet another empty space that her youngest had left behind. 

( _Aiko had heard her in there multiple times, but only on one occasion did she stop to stand in the doorway. Her mother looked a pitiful sight, sitting there in a robe that had evidently seen better days, normally coiffured dark brown hair now as tousled as it could be, red-rimmed eyes that had long exhausted their supply of tears. She was clutching one of Minako's stuffed toys, a white cat, for dear life, as though it was the last connection she had to her little girl. Aiko felt ill at ease to see her mother this way; her mother and father had always insisted on being paragons as far as appearances went, and she didn't think she'd ever really seen her mother be anything other than the carbon copy of the woman she was in their family portraits, without so much as a single hair out of place and a smile always on her lips. And now here she was, too racked by grief for the child she'd lost to even pretend for the children she still had. And Aiko had made her this way._

_She wasn't stupid; she'd known her parents would be sad. But she'd never accounted for it being like this. The guilt gnawed at her mind, ate her up, tried to swallow her whole. All she could do now was pick at her nails; there wasn't anything much left to bite._

_Aiko wanted to say something to her mother, anything to make her feel better. She'd wanted to remind Mama that even though Minako was gone, she'd still always have her older daughter. She still had Daichi, too, so it wasn't like she'd lost everything. Aiko hated to see her so sad. Maybe Papa did, too, and that was the reason he avoided being home now more than ever. If Mama could just try to be happy again, Papa could start spending more time with them, and everything would go back to normal. Some things just can't be helped, and there was no reason the world had to come crumbling down around them all for the loss of one child._

_There was so much she could have said, so much she'd wanted to say._

_But when her mother meets her eyes, Aiko doesn't dare say a word, for the sudden change in her mother's expression leaves her in stunned silence. There is a venom behind her eyes that Aiko doesn't think she's ever seen from anyone, much less her mother, who had always found a way to seem exhausted instead of angry even in the most vexing of circumstances. Her lips have drawn into the thinnest line, and if looks could kill, Akane would have two dead daughters instead of just one._

_Before she can see much of anything else, Akane slams the bedroom door in Aiko's face, the girl recoiling from the harshness._ ) 

Still, regardless of the reasoning, Aiko's relieved to finally not have to spend her days alone with Mama. The atmosphere in the house has gotten too oppressive for her to bear, even in such a short amount of time. It was still the same house, but with none of the warmth and comfort of home. She'd come to miss the static buzz of her mother's soap operas from the living room, and her father's printer paper and coffee smell. She'd especially come to miss her mother's cooking; naturally, she couldn't be bothered to cook if she didn't even feel like eating, and Aiko had a feeling she'd soon clear out the supply of cereal, chips, and sandwiches if this kept up. 

As they make the familiar turn onto the Slanes' street, Akane speaks to Aiko more than she has in the past two days combined. "You go up and get him this time. I'm not going to go knocking on that woman's door like _this_." 

Aiko didn't really see what her mother was worried about. She didn't look too bad today, actually. Maybe a little less formal, just slacks and a shirt compared to her normal patterned dresses and extravagant makeup, but definitely better than she'd been for a little while. But she guessed that Mama would just _die_ of shame if she were seen in a state that was anything less than immaculate.

Nonetheless, Aiko accedes to her mother's command. Climbing out of the car, she crosses the cobblestone walkway over to the Slanes' front door, knocking on it twice.

Surprisingly, the door swings open not even a minute later, and Aiko is greeted by Daniel's mother.

"Hi, honey!" Rebecca was still in the habit of speaking to her like the small child she'd been when they'd first met. Her gaze passes Aiko momentarily, fixing itself on the car parked in her driveway. "Did you wanna come in for a minute? The boys are still upstairs getting Daichi's things together. He'd probably be out by now if Danny's room wasn't such a war zone." 

Aiko nods, following after her into the house and to the living room. Aiko had been here a number of times, considering the fact that Daichi spent most of his time here when he wasn't home or following their father around the office, though she'd never really stayed for longer than five minutes at a time. However, the familiarity of the environment and the fact that she was at the very least being acknowledged, Aiko could begrudgingly admit, made being at the Slanes' house right now more comfortable than being at home. That was for sure. 

"Do you want a pop or something? The boys have gone through most of them, but I'm sure I can still manage to get you one." Rebecca questioned, despite already being midway through turning to go to the kitchen anyways. 

"No, thank you." is Aiko's hushed response, but Rebecca heads over to the kitchen anyways, coming back with two cans and placing one on the coffee table in front of Aiko. "Just in case you change your mind." 

Aiko can't help but wonder how much she knows about everything that's happened. She didn't overhear much of her and Mama's conversation over the phone, but surely she'd have had to have been told something. It made no sense otherwise for her to have taken on keeping Daichi there for another day, especially considering the fact that him staying over for even just the first night was pretty rare, never mind two full days. 

Her question is answered pretty quickly, as soon as Rebecca starts to speak to her again. "I know your mother doesn't want me saying anything about the accident right now." She admits, hesitating as though she's searching for the words to say. "But just know that we're here for you all, Danny and I. If your family ever wants to come by for dinner, or if you kids need somewhere to stay for a night or two while your parents figure things out again, you're always more than welcome here. Just tell your mother to let me know. We'll do whatever we can." 

No matter where Aiko goes, it seems the trail of her sister's death is sure to follow. 

And she hates it. Hates how, even in death, Minako still finds a way to be a nuisance.

Nonetheless, she thanks her and offers a gracious smile.

* * *

Minako's funeral is held on the next Sunday.

Funnily enough, timed perfectly for the clouds to return to Bellevue's skies, to color them gray where there had once been blue yet again. 

The turnout is unusual, to say the least, for the funeral of a six year old. Sure, there were obviously relatives in attendance, as well as some family friends, but Aiko figures that a good majority of the people here never even knew her sister, outside of maybe having heard their father mention her once or twice. A lot of them were her father's business partners, people she'd seen at annual office parties since she was really little but would have a hard time naming if asked. They seem to be more familiar with Daichi, if anything, judging by the amount of people that have gone up to him as opposed to her. Not that Aiko really minds, anyways. She's perfectly content to sit alone. Actually, she'd _prefer_ to be left alone entirely.

Aiko watches her mother and father make their rounds as the grieving parents, accepting condolences from each person that had flown miles and miles, it seemed, just to make small talk and see some kid laying dead in a box. Akane had managed to drag herself out of her sorry state for the day, wearing a dress of black lace that came just below her knees, hair and makeup once again done up to perfection. Hiroshi wore a black suit to match, hair slicked back with precision, and made sure his son looked the same. Aiko’s own dress was the same length as her mother’s, the same mourner’s black, but made of a soft velour instead. 

Even after such a tragedy, it was of the utmost importance to represent their family the best way they could.

It really did puzzle Aiko to think about, the way her parents could pull themselves together for a bunch of strangers and fall apart at the seams in front of their own children. But maybe it was just an adult thing. 

"Hey, Aiko." A boy's voice brings Aiko out of her thoughts, and she turns to look at the seats next to her. They've found themselves occupied by her older brother, naturally, and Daniel. It'd be inappropriate for Aiko to giggle at how silly he looks, so she doesn't. Still, she thinks he sticks out like a sore thumb in such a formal setting, all gangly limbs and coke-bottle glasses that make his green eyes look buggy. Inky hair that was evidently attempted to be combed back just makes him look like he's run through a storm instead, and his suit looks baggy on such a scrawny frame. 

"Hi." She responds, giving him a half-hearted wave. Though she's found a source of humor in his appearance, she still isn't really in the mood to talk. 

Evidently, though, Daniel doesn't seem to pick up on it. "I already told Daichi but, uh, sorry about your sister." He offers weakly. "My mom brought flowers."

And so had many, _many_ other people. In Aiko's opinion, Minako was the last person who deserved them. She wonders, for a brief minute, if things would be the same way if she were the one laying in that casket. Would so many people have come, even though she barely knew them? Would she have gotten dozens upon dozens of flowers? Would her parents have gone through all the effort of pulling themselves, and this event, together on such short notice?

She doesn't know, and she doesn't want to think about it anymore.

"Thanks. Mina probably would've liked them." Aiko replies concisely. She hasn't seen them, doesn't intend on trying to pick them out of all the different bouquets and arrangements, but that much is still true. 

It's only then that Daniel has the sense to leave her alone, and Aiko is grateful for that. The rest of the funeral goes by uneventfully, really. It's the same pattern, watching her parents accept condolences, her mother giving herself just enough room to cry so that she seems pitiful yet again, but not enough to completely ruin the cosmetics she'd carefully applied. Her father remains a brick wall, existing, it seems, only to shake another stranger's hand and hold up his wife. Those same strangers go to greet Daichi, but seem to forget that Hiroshi and Akane have ever had a daughter outside of the one whose funeral they're attending. Minako has died, and even so, Aiko has become the ghost instead.

Drifting through the sea of unknown guests, unnoticed despite being the child of those the guests have come to appease, Aiko makes her way over to her sister's casket.

It's really a shame that it had to be closed. Then, everyone would have gotten to see that Minako wasn't so cute after all, despite all the pictures displayed that showed a tiny girl with a toothy grin, always dressed like a precious little doll. She'd bet she looks monstrous, all wrinkly and gray and waterlogged.

The casket didn't seem to be locked. Maybe, if she pushed and pulled at the lid some-

The next thing she knows, her mother is behind her, hand locked around Aiko's wrist, and she's pulled through the crowd and out of the room without so much as a single word of explanation.

"Mama!-" She protests, but her mother continues walking without a word, heels clicking as she stamps along the tile floor.

They push through the front door, into the parking lot. Akane looks around for a split second, and then swings her hand across her daughter's face _hard_. Aiko stumbles from the force and the shock, biting down on her lip so as to not cry and gingerly laying a hand on her own cheek. Mama has never hit her, not like this, but she doesn't want to know if she'll do it again if she causes a scene. 

"You've done _enough_." Akane hisses, and it makes Aiko's blood run cold. Maybe she shouldn't have tried messing with the casket, but she gets the sense that this isn't what it's really about. 

"I'm sorry, Mama." She speaks with a lump in her throat, even so.

Sorry doesn't appear to cut it, not if the disgust on her mother's face is anything to go by. 


	3. A Chance Meeting

_**August 20th, 1993** _

Aiko usually enjoys her family's yearly trips back to Japan well enough. 

Hokkaido is a welcome change from Washington's chill, even if the summers here are more humid than what she's used to. She'll also admit, with some reluctance, that there are more exciting things to do around here than there are back home. Sure, she still thinks there's fun to be had in riding bikes with Brenda down to the Blockbuster to grab a handful of movies to lock themselves in her room with for a day or two, downing pints of ice cream while discussing the attractiveness of the newest Hollywood dream boy or the logic of horror movie babysitters running up the stairs instead of out the front door when the killer was _right_ behind them, but she could do that just about any time she wanted. Even if she'd been attending them since she was old enough to remember, there was still a certain novelty about the seasonal festivals they'd go to each year. She liked going to pick out a new yukata with Papa's mother, even if the woman's insistence at making sure that whichever brightly colored article was selected would be no less than a perfect match for her granddaughter could make such trips rather tedious, and there had always been a beauty to the fireworks that hung in the sky, fantastic flashes of color to illuminate the pitch black of the night.

But this year was somewhat different from the last. They were staying in Otaru, with her mother's parents, as opposed to Sapporo, with her father's. Ostensibly, according to the letters she'd skimmed on Papa's desk back home, it was because Mama's parents felt they never got enough time with their grandchildren when they came to visit. Aiko doubts that it's their _grandchildren_ they're concerned about more so than just their _grandson_. Her mother's parents are polar opposites to her father's; when Aiko thinks of her father's parents, she thinks of her apple-cheeked grandmother who fusses incessantly over her and Daichi, plying them with homemade meals and candy and recounting tales of when Papa had been just as young as they were, and of her grandfather who, despite his stern face and demeanor, wanted to know every detail of their lives that he'd missed for the year he hadn't seen them and would listen with rapt attention to minor tales of new classmates and shifting interests. In contrast, her mother's parents keep an unmistakable distance from her, always fixing her with the same suspicious stares that Mama would cast her way when she thought she wasn't looking, but Daichi was their golden boy, lauded with praise for inheriting their daughter's looks and their son-in-law's business acumen and sure to be a success.

They'd done nothing but ignore her for the entire week she'd been here, so far. For all her maternal grandparents cared, Aiko could have very well been left at home in Washington and it wouldn't have made the most minor difference. She'd spent most of her time here shut up in the spare bedroom, flipping through the book she'd brought with her or penning letters to her best friend, who she'd already come to miss terribly. It normally wasn't this lonely here, but considering the fact that Mama's parents had kept their schedule so packed that they likely wouldn't be able to see Papa's parents until the tail end of their trip, Aiko was severely lacking in the company of anyone who actually wanted her around. So far, she'd only mailed one of the letters she'd written Brenda, but she doubted she'd gotten it yet. She hoped she'd get one back before she was already set to go back home. At this point, Aiko would be over the moon to hear from her about anything, whether it was a new CD or the boy in their grade who didn't look half-bad now that he'd finally gotten his braces off. She thought she'd go insane otherwise, like one of those prisoners left alone with their thoughts in solitary confinement. It felt more like _that_ than being on vacation, truth be told.

So it doesn't surprise Aiko that when she heads out the door, no one even cares to ask where she's going. There were no pleas for her to spend just one more minute with their grandparents, which was the common response Daichi received when leaving the room for even a second. Not even so much as a "be careful". They were all too busy absorbed in their own conversation, speaking of the university Daichi would be attending in the fall and what he would be majoring in and how they'd always known he'd get into such a good school, for he was such a bright young man-

How ironic, that on a trip to visit family, Aiko should feel the most at peace when she's nowhere near them. 

* * *

Aiko's been by the local konbini a good handful of times by now. Mainly because the food at her grandparents' house was, for lack of a better term, _questionable_. She didn't know how on Earth Mama could have possibly grown up on that stuff, but she's grateful that at least her grandmother's subpar cooking skills weren't passed on to her daughter. 

She isn't looking to get much today, seeing as she'd still had to choke down every last bite of her grandmother's excuse for dinner regardless of if she liked it or not. Maybe just a drink and some Hi-Chew, or something. Normally, she wouldn't want to bother with sweets after so much as a day here, but for once, she misses her other grandmother's infinite supply that she insists she and Daichi take from, despite the fact that at this point they've grown much too old to have as much as she wants them to without feeling sick.

She already has a pop in her hand and is debating between either green apple or melon flavored candy when a group of teens, all looking to be about her brother's age, walk into the end of the aisle. It's a fairly large group, three boys to two girls, and Aiko's tries to look away from them, despite the fact that their boisterous chatter is enough to attract anyone's attention. Still, her eyes can't help but catch on one of the boys, fairly tan with shaggy black hair to match a black bomber jacket. He wears a lopsided grin while addressing one of the others, a girl with brown hair cropped into a bob that looks to be almost a foot shorter than him, but not quite. Aiko wonders if that's his girlfriend; he's too cute not to have one. She doubts it'd be the other girl with them, one with dark hair tied into two pigtails, seeing as she's hanging off the arm of a brown haired boy. 

The realization that maybe she should stop staring hits her when another one of the teens, a boy with a buzzed haircut, nudges the boy in the black jacket and mutters something to their group, using his gaze to point her out. All at once, they turn to look at her, attempting to play it off but failing to do so very well. For a second, the boy Aiko had been looking at meets her eyes. She hears someone laugh, likely the girl he was talking to before, but she doesn't bother trying to confirm. Instead, she ducks her head down, puts the green apple candy back on the shelf, and heads to the counter as fast as she can. She's sure her face is a lovely shade of scarlet right now, but if the cashier notices, she doesn't care to comment, and _thank God for that_.

Aiko doesn't want to be dramatic, but if every trip to Japan is going to be like this from now on, then maybe she'll just stay home instead.

She only slows her pace down when she's already outside of the store, stopping to reach into the bag and grab her drink.

But when she hears the _ding_ of the konbini's door, signalling someone on their way out, she decides that maybe she'll just wait until she gets back to her grandparents' house. The last thing she wants to do is face those kids again. Her drink goes back in the bag just as quickly as she'd brought it out, and she turns to walk away without so much as a glance back.

A male's voice stops her right in her tracks, no matter how much she wills herself to just keep walking. "Hey, hold up!"

Aiko turns around to see none other than the boy in the black jacket, and only him. On one hand, she's glad the entire group isn't with him. On the other, though, she wishes she could just disappear right then and there. Maybe she's taken being practically invisible for granted all this time.

"I'm sorry about my friends back there." He gives a minimal bow for the trouble, a strange mixture of sheepish and sure of himself. "We weren't trying to scare you off."

Aiko nods in acknowledgement. Even if she still feels ill at ease in his presence, she's starting to think he's much cuter up close. 

"I'm Oshiro Masaru." He speaks smoothly. "And you?" 

Aiko isn't sure what to make of this. Nonetheless, she answers him. "Tanaka Aiko."

"Well, we're all going to hang out at the park afterwards. If you want to join us, Tanaka-san-" Masaru offers. "I don't think anyone would mind such a pretty girl tagging along." It takes her by surprise, and yet he speaks with that same grin she'd seen on his face earlier, as though he'd done nothing at all. 

Aiko doesn't think herself impulsive, or even just particularly outgoing for that matter. But there's just something about Masaru, and the direct confidence with which he spoke. Aiko was used to being overlooked entirely by boys; she could count all the times she'd ever been in a situation like _this_ on one hand, and still have four fingers left to show for it. Besides, she's sure no one will miss her if she's gone just a little longer than she's meant to be, and if this is her only shot at having any real fun on vacation, then she isn't going to let herself miss out. Even if she never sees him again, she's sure it'll at least make for a good story to tell when she gets back home. 

"Okay." 

* * *

The hours pass like seconds, and Aiko has decided that maybe Masaru and his friends aren't so bad after all.

She learns all of their names relatively quickly; the girl with the bob who turns out not to be Masaru's girlfriend after all is Nishimura Yui, the boy with the buzzed hair is Yamada Eiji, the girl with the black braids is Nakano Ikuko, and the brown haired boy, who actually _is_ Ikuko's boyfriend, is Ogawa Kouichi. Most of them are eighteen, as she'd expected, with the exception of Eiji, who is nineteen, and Ikuko, who's seventeen. When Aiko admits to them, albeit hesitantly, that she's fifteen, she sees Eiji look to Masaru with a furrowed brow. Masaru only shrugs in response. 

She decides to ignore it, but hopes to God that Masaru doesn't already have her written off as just some dumb kid now.

They're all kind to her for the most part—Yui doesn't seem particularly interested in her, and Ikuko and Kouichi seem to forget they aren't the only two people left in the world—maybe more so than a couple of strangers really ought to be. Especially Masaru. Aiko finds that she spends the majority of the time talking to him, though she doesn't mind it in the slightest. As a matter of fact, she's begun to understand the couple in his friend group some; when Masaru speaks, Aiko can't help from hanging on his every word. She finds herself entranced by the devilish glint of dark eyes, even if it disconcerts her how Masaru appears to know something she doesn't. She finds that her uncertainty is easy to dismiss when Masaru seems to know just what to say. Almost every other word that slips from his tongue is a compliment of some sort, clearly meant to charm. Aiko, admittedly, doesn't know that much about boys, but she knows some of them can be tricky. Still, she wants to believe that isn't the case with Masaru. He's nice enough, genuine enough, and he wouldn't be saying anything he'd said if he didn't at least sort of mean it.

But when the night begins to turn much too dark to see in, Aiko figures she should start heading back, even if she doesn't necessarily want to. She doesn't think her family will worry much, but she knows that Mama would have her head if she found out about anything. Granted, Mama would have her head for most things, but the point still stood.

Masaru, both oddly enough and obviously, offers to walk her home. The rest of the group hangs back, still, but Aiko doesn't mind. 

"So, you said you'd be staying for how long?" Masaru inquires as they walk along, hands in his pockets.

"Just for a little over another week, until the 29th." Aiko explains, her gaze not daring to stray from Masaru's face. She hopes she's not creeping him out or anything, and he doesn't really seem to mind. She just likes to look at him. Maybe, she thinks, he may just be dreamier than any of the Hollywood actors she'd ever seen. He's definitely more so than any of the boys she'd known back home, that was for sure. Much nicer than any of them, too. 

"You have much free time from now until then?" 

Aiko _wishes_ she could answer him in the affirmative, but she honestly doesn't know. "Maybe. We're supposed to be heading over to Otaru at some point, and I don't really know what we've got going on until then, but-"

Their walk takes them to a familiar row of houses, and Aiko feels her heart sink. 

"I guess we'll have to make the most of the time you _do_ have, then." Masaru asserts. 

Aiko looks at him questioningly, and Masaru chuckles. "How about same time, same place, tomorrow? Do you think you can manage that?"

"Alright." Aiko finds herself replying much too quickly for her own liking; she doesn't even know that she can for certain, but like Hell if she's not going to try.

They stop just outside the entrance to her grandparents' house, and Masaru leaves her with his signature grin. "Don't stand me up, Tanaka-san." 

"I won't!" Aiko fires back with a laugh, watching him trail off into the night, passing under one streetlight and then another, and _another_ , until he left her view entirely.


	4. Limerence

Aiko can't help but wonder if she's a little too dolled up for something as simple as going from the konbini to the park.

She's tried to keep it somewhere on the border of cute and casual; a floral print dress that comes to mid-thigh, with a denim jacket over top. Maybe her dress is a _little_ tight, but not uncomfortably so. Her mother never liked her to wear it, and she often cited that as a reason, but she was the last person Aiko would consider taking fashion advice from right now. Besides, she'd gotten it on her own anyways, with the money she'd managed to scrape together from babysitting the Inoues' daughter back home. It seemed Mama was always against her wearing anything even _remotely_ out of the woman's own tastes, so she'd come to realize she had to get things herself if she wanted anything she actually liked.

She'd also spent the last half hour fussing over how exactly she's going to style her hair. Did she want to leave her bangs where they were, hanging just above her eyes? Or maybe she could pull them back with a headband—oh, nevermind, that looked stupid. Maybe she could put it in a ponytail, or leave it half-up, half-down? Neither of those seemed to do much either. Aiko felt as though she'd grabbed at and re-positioned black locks just about a thousand times over, but to no avail. Maybe she'd just leave it down, then. Not like there were many other good options.

Besides, she'd had it down yesterday, and Masaru had said she was pretty. Aiko smiled at the thought, though she was giddy and petrified all the same. She'd never been on a date before, had only ever experienced them through words on a page or actors laid out on a screen or that one time in middle school, when Brenda had given her a play-by-play of some boy from her church taking her to the mall and—how _sensational_ —sharing a pretzel with her. She hoped Masaru wouldn't be able to tell; there was no doubt in her mind that he'd probably been on his fair share of dates by now. He was attractive and mature and she wanted to appeal to that. She wouldn't let herself be just another awkward, inexperienced kid in over her head. 

Aiko's gaze found its way back over to the alarm clock, watching yet another minute go by. Unease pricked at her mind yet. She didn't want to be late, but at the same time, she wasn't positive that she'd be able to step out the front door without passing out. She tries to reassure herself; it won't be too bad, Masaru's nice, and he'd already seemed to like her enough the day before. Besides, if it went that badly, they'd be off to Otaru in five days, and she'd be a safe distance from him and the feeling of absolute humiliation then.

She obviously hopes it doesn't go badly, though. Nothing would be worse than something going wrong on her very first date, especially when it's a date with a boy like _that_. In Aiko's honest opinion, maybe Masaru's a little out of her league. She only really thinks herself average, _sometimes_ pretty on some occasions. But him- she thinks she's most certainly gotten lucky. _Incredibly_ lucky, at that.

She knows she can't keep delaying this forever. She wonders if Masaru is already waiting for her, and what he'd look like today. She's sure that he'd be just as handsome as he seemed to her yesterday. Aiko could only hope that he could say the same for her. She'd done her best to ensure that. 

She gives her entire appearance one last glance over in the mirror, just to be positively sure she looks her best, before she heads out, head already in the clouds and heart rising into her throat. 

* * *

As expected, when Aiko finally makes the walk over to the konbini, Masaru, clad in simply a black tee shirt tucked into a lighter pair of jeans, is already standing at the entrance. She hopes she hasn't made him wait too long—she'd hate to have already screwed things up before she'd even _gotten_ there—but judging by the nonchalant expression he has, she doesn't think that Masaru has been too inconvenienced by the few minutes she'd made him wait for. 

If anything, he seems contented to see her when he notices her walking over, and Aiko feels her heart jump into her throat once more. She wishes more than anything right now that she wasn't always so quick to panic. The last thing she needed was to go into full blown shock simply because a boy seemed happy to see her. She returns his smile and gives him a casual wave, hoping she's not coming off as anything other than composed. She can't see her own expression right now, but she hopes it isn't so easy to read. At least, if it is, she hopes Masaru will have the good sense to not broach the subject.

"Hey, Tanaka-san!" Masaru chuckles, and Aiko can already feel warmth in her cheeks. "I thought you actually _might_ have stood me up for a second."

 _Oh no._ "I'm sorry, it just took me a little while-" Aiko splutters an apology, but that same laugh cuts through it, leaving her puzzled. 

"It's fine, no need to get so worked up." Masaru shakes his head, clearly amused. "I was only messing around with you. I've been here about five minutes, give or take."

Aiko lets out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. "Don't tease me like that!" She puffs out her cheeks, feigning a playful indignation.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Masaru goes along with it, raising both hands in defense as he pretends to cower.

A woman, much older than either of them, fixes them with a stare as she walks through the door behind them. The teens' laughter dies down quickly, though they have a hard time containing it. 

"We should probably go now." Masaru points out, and Aiko nods in agreement. The two walk out of the parking lot, over the crosswalk, and back onto the sidewalk, taking each twist and turn that it takes in order to get to the park.

The weather was comfortable enough when she'd left the house, still humid but fairly breezy, but it's already starting to feel entirely too hot, even for sunset. Aiko can't decide if that's because she's just nervous out of her mind or if this is simply the wrong sort of weather to be wearing a jacket in. Either way, she continuously reminds herself to keep her cool. Maybe it's counterproductive; she can't forget that she's nervous if she keeps reminding herself of the fact that she's nervous, but it's got to count for something. 

Naturally, Masaru ends up continuing the conversation first. "So, you said you were from _where_ , again?" He questions, hand on the back of his neck as he speaks. "It sort of slipped my mind."

"Well, I was born here, actually. We lived here until I was about four." Aiko elaborates. "But we live out in the States now, in Washington."

Masaru gives a hum of acknowledgement. "Is it any better there than it is over here?"

Aiko's torn on how exactly to answer; she's spent her entire life over there, but she's never had a particularly bad time while over here. Especially not _now_. She highly doubts that she'd ever be in the same situation back home, asked out by a boy who had shown such an intense interest in her in such a short amount of time. "I mean, I guess it depends. I've been having a good time here, the only thing I can say is that I kind of miss my friends. Yours were really nice, though." Aiko stammers, not exactly knowing what's too forward and what isn't. "And you, too, of course."

Masaru's expression indicates that he figured as much. "Heh, thanks." He simpers. "But who could treat a girl like you any differently?"

Aiko has to restrain a giggle at that, to not seem completely flustered by the attention. "You're... _too_ sweet." Still, it does wonders for her mood. She wonders, briefly, if Masaru is aware of how striking he looks, with the glow of a setting sun upon him. It makes his brown eyes seem all the more warm, illuminates the tan of his skin as though he were ethereal. Almost heavenly; the vision of a lovestruck girl that one would have to see in order to truly believe. But Aiko wouldn't mind being the only one who knows, the only one who ever gets to see Masaru this way. If only she knew what he saw when he looked back at her.

"Hardly." Masaru dissents, speaking as though each word that passes his lips is a pure fact. "I'm just being honest." 

The park is empty, except for them, and he reaches to take her hand in his own. Aiko's heart soars.

* * *

Aiko learns more about Masaru as their time together goes on.

Masaru is the youngest of the three Oshiro siblings, preceded by an older brother and sister, who he doesn't have much contact with. Likewise, he doesn't have much contact with either of his parents, either. Apparently it's a plus in his book, though. His father, tired of constantly bickering with his youngest son, was paying to keep him in an apartment of his own as a sort of 'graduation present' since his recent graduation from high school.

"He was _dying_ to get me out of the house. But it works out on both ends. He doesn't bother me, I don't bother him." Masaru shrugs through an explanation. "And I get to do, more or less, whatever I please." 

Aiko can find some humor in the whole thing, though she second-guesses before thinking that maybe she shouldn't be laughing about it. It just seems _familiar_ , for lack of a better term. She assumes she'll likely be in Masaru's situation when she's at his age too, with her parents doing whatever they can just to keep her at bay without just outright throwing her out. It seems to be the general theme around the house these days; her parents have never outright told her that they don't want her around, but everything that remains unsaid shows itself in the distance they keep from her, always welcoming their son without question but keeping their daughter at arm's length. It would be pathetic if she wasn't so used to it, at this point. The troubles at home simply couldn't be helped, so what use was there in worrying about them? 

"You should come over one of these times, before you have to go." Masaru offers. "It isn't too far off from here, really, and it's not a half bad place."

"I'll think about it." Aiko accedes, though the very idea twists her stomach in knots. Nonetheless, she doesn't want to disappoint Masaru by turning him down entirely. She doubts that she'd be allowed to even if she tried, though. Sure, she can swing sneaking past them to go on brief dates, but anything else? She supposes that even her family has their limits on how much they're willing to turn a blind eye to whatever she does just to keep her out of their hair. 

Masaru sighs for a second, before looking down at the watch that adorns his wrist. Aiko wonders if she's done something wrong, though she can't exactly tell by the brisk tone with which he speaks. "It's getting to be pretty late. Shouldn't I walk you home?"

Aiko agrees, though the prospect of their date ending saddens her some, and they return to the sidewalk yet again, hand in hand. Their walk back to her grandparents' house is gradual, as though they're both deliberately delaying it. 

* * *

It's only when they reach the entrance of the house that the hesitation disappears. 

Aiko doesn't exactly know what she'd thought Masaru would say or do, but even then, he surprises her. 

"It's a shame we don't have that much time." Masaru admits, sounding troubled by such a predicament. "I really do like you."

Aiko suddenly finds herself unable to meet his gaze, absolutely sure her face has turned vermilion in spite of herself. "I-" 

He leans down before she can say another word, keeping her chin steady between his fingers, and all Aiko can do is freeze for the seconds that his lips are on her own. He's the faintness of lingering smoke and cologne, and Aiko feels like she could drown in it.

Just as quickly as he had kissed her, he dropped her hand and drew away. "Goodnight, Aiko-san." Masaru turned to walk away. "I'll see you soon."

Aiko didn't want him to leave. She wanted to grab his hand in her own once more, to pull him back to where he'd been, to recreate that moment once more and then some. But instead, she stayed where she was, frozen in place by a power she remained unsure of. 

" _Goodnight_."

That night, as she lay on the futon in the spare room, staring up at the ceiling intently because of eyelids that refused to allow themselves to flutter shut, Aiko replayed the memory in her head, again and again, until she no longer had to even try to conjure up the image, for it would reappear on its own even without her interference. She felt, with a newfound maturity and sentimentality, that at last she had come to understand everything, every hearts-and-flowers romance on the screen, every saccharine word in the pop songs that played nonstop on the radio. Maybe, just maybe, she'd finally come to understand what it is to have a first love. 


	5. Like Lovers Do

On her last day with Masaru, Aiko wishes that she never had to leave.

If she'd known what she knew now at the very beginning of their trip, she'd have begged her parents to stay in Otaru the entire time. So what if she'd been downright miserable there before? That clearly hadn't ever affected them to begin with, and now she wasn't so lonely anymore. The lack of any real meaningful interaction with her family couldn't put even the most minor dent into her newfound happiness. Besides, it wasn't like they hadn't done the same before while visiting her father's parents, spending the entirety of their vacations here over in Sapporo and maybe stopping in to see her mother's parents once, but it was much too late for that now. Her parents _insisted_ they'd be spending the last three days they had left in Sapporo, so close yet so far away from here. Too far from Masaru for her liking.

It was a strange feeling for her, how he'd managed to make such an impression in such a short amount of time. It certainly isn't for lack of effort; Masaru seemed to be determined to live up to the very textbook example of a perfect man. Every little move he made, it was as though he was hellbent on making her swoon. And maybe he was, for all Aiko knew. He'd spoken little, if any, details as far as his past relationships went, but she had a feeling he knew just how to win a girl over by now. If that was his intention, he'd done a good job of it, for not a second passed that he wasn't on her mind. Aiko was beginning to see him in everything; the colors of a setting sun, the sweetness of candy that dissolved on her tongue, lovestruck couples that she'd passed on the street, fawning over each other in a way that would lead Aiko to envision such moments as they had occurred in her own life, memories that she clung to until they could replay with cinematic clarity in her mind. 

Aiko knew that she _couldn't_ be sure so soon; she'd heard the standard lectures before, even if they hadn't been aimed at her exactly. Teenagers were foolish and naive and much too quick to lose themselves in new emotions that ran too high, making themselves dizzy with fantasies that would likely never come to fruition. But, even so, even with such little history between them and not even an official title to speak of, Aiko thinks she may love him. 

That sentiment reaffirms itself whenever Aiko cranes her head upward for a split second, just to get a better look at him. Even if he's not looking back at her, and his attention remains focused on the screen in front of them, it doesn't matter. Okay, maybe it stings a _little_ bit, considering the fact that he'd been pressing and _pressing_ her on the issue of visiting his apartment at least once, and now that she's finally caved on account of running out of days to spare, the movie they're watching can hold his attention more than she can, but she can excuse that. At least she gets to be here with him.

It's only when the otherwise fast film begins to come to a snail's pace that Aiko finds that Masaru returns her attention, meeting eyes with her when she turns her attention back to him for the umpteenth time. Now that he _has_ noticed her, Aiko isn't sure she wanted to be caught to begin with. She goes to turn her head back to the screen, only for Masaru to steady her chin with his hand, grinning wolfishly. 

"What?" Aiko asks, giggling nervously. 

"You're too cute for your own good, Aiko-san." She can hardly protest such a statement before his lips are on her own, with an intensity she finds that she's still getting used to. At least, she thinks, she's getting better than she was initially. It's easier to let Masaru take the lead here, pulling her closer with the hand he'd had wrapped around her waist, the ferocity he pressed into the kiss with the antithesis to her own yielding. His smell is the same as always, though it manages to make her feel weak regardless of how much she'd gotten used to it.

She's begun to feel lightheaded, whether it be from a lack of much air or just the intoxicating sensation of being so near to him, when she realizes that his hand that had found itself amiss from it's prior position on her chin is on her knee, then on the hem of her skirt, then pushing its way up her thigh.

Aiko pulls away instantly, pushing at Masaru's chest to distance herself. She finds herself too stunned to even speak at first, her voice coming out rushed and hoarse as a result. "Wait, wait-"

Masaru withdraws his arm from around her waist, and he fixes her with a bewildered look. " _What?_ What is it?"

"I, um-" Aiko can barely find the words. If she's going to be honest, she's still barely processed the situation at hand. She can't help but feel so, completely and utterly, _stupid_. He was an older boy, evidently with much more experience under his belt than she could ever dream up herself. Of _course_ he was going to want to do more than just kiss her.

But Aiko isn't sure that she does. She'd just barely gotten accustomed to kissing him; she didn't think they'd be going any further for a _while_. A good, long while. Just the thought of it is enough to tie her stomach up in knots, and certainly not in a good way.

"I'm just- I really haven't-" Aiko's gaze is fixed downward, her hands pressing into the skin of her knees. She wants nothing than to sink into the floor she's staring at and disappear. "I'm sorry." She tries to ignore how pathetic she sounds, with the way she can't even bring herself to give him a proper explanation. 

She's just ruined it, she knows she has. All this time, of trying to prove to both him and herself that she's not this brainless child, far too immature for the likes of him, had gone to waste right that second. For all that she was so sure she'd loved him, he must _hate_ her now.

As pathetic as Aiko thought her excuse sounded, it must have seemed doubly so on Masaru's end, for he sighs and speaks in a tone that sounds nothing short of exasperated. "You can't just do this."

"Do... what?" His reply has only served to stun her even further.

"You come over, this late in the day, on the last day I'm going to get to see you for probably another _year_." Masaru shakes his head. "And then you lead me on and back out at the last second. You can't just be such a _tease_."

If Aiko felt guilty before, she feels it by a thousandfold now. She finally wills herself to look back at him, only to find him giving her such a harsh glare that she wonders if it is possible to shrink under it, just as she feels she has. She feels awful; she certainly doesn't want him to see her as some frigid bitch who was only looking to play him. "I didn't _mean_ to, Masaru-kun. It's just- I'm not ready. I don't know."

"It's not as big of a deal as you think it is, Aiko-san." Masaru speaks dismissively, raking a hand through his hair. "I'll go gentle with you, if that's what bothers you."

"No, it's not that-"

"Let me just take you home then." Masaru seems to finally relent. "Since you clearly don't want to be here anymore. I'm not going to force you to stay." He stands up, already beginning to head for the door. 

Just like _that?_ "Wait!" Even now, Aiko doesn't want her time with him to end so soon. She scrambles to stop him before he moves any further away, reaching out to catch him by the wrist. "I don't _want_ to leave yet."

Masaru chuckles as though it was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. "You _don't want_ to be anywhere near me, either. What's the point?"

Aiko doesn't know how to reason with him without sounding entirely too desperate. Of _course_ she still wants to be near him. For all she knows right now, she's almost fully certain that she _loves_ him. But that isn't something she can just say. Maybe he's right. Maybe she's just been overreacting and making a big deal out of nothing. Masaru cared for her just as much as she cared for him. She just knew he did; she could feel it. He wouldn't do anything he thought would hurt her. Besides, if he liked her so much, then it was only natural that he'd want to take things further. He knew what he was saying and doing. She could trust him. Even if she couldn't outright tell him how she felt just yet, she could still _show_ him. 

"I changed my mind." Aiko blurts out before she can second guess and stop herself. She tries to ignore the lump in her throat, the feeling that she's somehow making a mistake. "We can keep going, if you still want to."

That stops Masaru in his tracks, and his expression softens. Even for all her anxiety, Aiko feels relieved to see that. He's happy with her again, and that's all that matters.

Without so much as another word, not even to ask if she's absolutely sure of it—another relief in itself, really, since she isn't sure how she'd respond to that—Masaru takes a seat next to her again. His hand snakes around her waist to pull her flush against him, though his lips don't return to her own. Instead, he trails kisses down her neck, nipping lightly at her skin, his other hand wasting no time in returning to where it once was. 

Aiko freezes, this time, when she feels his hand slide into her underwear, but she doesn't move to stop him. If Masaru's noticed, he doesn't react. 

* * *

When Aiko finally returns to her grandparents' house that night, after a walk home that was definitely more arduous than normal, she can only hope that no one has noticed her absence.

Such a prayer, evidently, has gone unanswered, when she's greeted by her brother's presence the second she opens the front door.

The shock of it is enough to make her flinch, though Aiko supposes it isn't all that bad when she finally registers that it's just him. Daichi doesn't look like he's angry at her; only confused, if anything. Even if he was mad at her, that would be a thousand times better than any of the other alternatives. Aiko thinks she would rather just keel over and _die_ than have to explain anything to Mama and Papa.

"Where _were_ you?" Daichi wastes no time in questioning her, speaking in a manner reminiscent of their own father. Sometimes, Aiko honestly thinks he worries more than they do.

Aiko struggles to come up with an excuse on the spot. "I was just... _out_." She shrugs, going to take off her shoes. Her time at Masaru's is still fresh on her mind, and she's tempted to just snap at her brother to get off her back. She knows that wouldn't be fair; he isn't being _mean_ about it, just nosy. Even so, she doesn't feel like answering any questions. All she wants to do is go to bed.

If Daichi's picking up on her queues, he's decided to outright ignore that. "Obviously. I thought you were out at the konbini, but you weren't there. Not at the park, either, or anywhere else I could think of."

"Did Mama and Papa make you go look for me?" Aiko continues to avoid the question, deflecting with one of her own instead. "Are they mad?"

"No, they're asleep." Daichi admits. "They thought you just locked yourself in the room. I had to go remind you to get everything packed for tomorrow morning, but you weren't there. So I went out to look for you. Did something-" 

"Well, you didn't have to. I'm fine." Aiko sounds a lot more snippy than she intended to, but it's too late to correct that after she's already spoken. "I'm tired, so good night."

Aiko can tell that Daichi has a lot more to ask her about, if the knit of his brow is anything to go by, but he seems to hold his tongue. He doesn't say anything further, merely giving her a nod, and then turns to walk away. 

Only then does it occur to Aiko to push her hair forward to cover the bruises on her neck. She mentally curses herself for it, but if her brother hadn't brought it up to her then, she can only hope he'll keep quiet to their parents too.


	6. Two Lines

_**September 26th, 1993** _

These days, Aiko's been feeling ill more often than not. She's starting to think that _might_ be a problem.

To compare this school year's attendance record to years past, even if school had yet to be in session for even a full month, Aiko thinks she's taken more sick days now than she ever has before. Well, that was until Mama decided she'd be going to school whether she woke up feeling like she'd lose whatever she'd been able to pick at during dinner the night before the second she got out of bed or not. Now she just thinks the school nurse is starting to get tired of seeing her around her office, and the feeling is very much mutual. She leaves her alone for the most part now, though, not batting an eye whenever she comes in _again_ to lay down for half a class period. The inquiries as to whether she was absolutely _sure_ her parents wouldn't be able to just come get her and the reminders that she couldn't just keep coming down and missing class had been retired pretty quickly, probably when she'd realized it was a moot point. 

Aiko's never really been sickly. Sure, she'd come down with something on occasion, but nothing of this degree, nor anything that had lasted this long. She'd come up with a litany of excuses for it initially; a stomach bug, a sudden aversion to her mother's cooking, the impending onset of her period. But she'd had the flu before, and it was hardly comparable to how she felt now. It wasn't just her mother's cooking that she couldn't keep down, it was practically _everything_ she tried to eat. She was still waiting on that last one, and waiting, and _waiting_...

It'd been two weeks give or take—she'd counted, watching the calendar like a hawk—since she was supposed to get it, and if she didn't know any better, she'd think the day was never going to come. It's not a possibility she likes to ponder, especially given the further implications of that. If anything, it only makes her feel worse than she already does, the sickly feeling combined with a panic that sets every pathway in her mind alight with paranoia. Even so, that worry brings her to one possible conclusion each time. A summer night, open-mouthed kisses heavy with lingering smoke, a rough hand that gripped at pliant flesh, intent on leaving proof that it had been there, and drew her closer and pulled until he'd had her just as he wanted her. _Masaru_. 

As always, such a drift of her mind only worsened her condition.

Even now, looking at nothing more than the small half of a sandwich placed in front of her, Aiko thinks she'll be sick if she so much as touches it. Evidently, the look on her face shows as much, because the second Brenda looks at her after setting the other two plates down on the table, the blonde breathes a frustrated sigh.

"You're not _serious_ , are you?" Brenda questions; she sounds more like a concerned mother than anything. "Aiko, you haven't had anything all day. You can't just keep _starving_ yourself."

"I'm _not_ starving myself." Aiko counters, leaning her head on her hand. "I'm just not hungry. It's not a big deal." 

That isn't too far from the truth, even if it isn't exactly accurate. Aiko knows she probably needs to eat something; feels it, too, judging by the gnawing feeling in her stomach and the listless manner which she'd been moving through the entire day with. But she also knows that she _can't,_ and she'd take a stomach ache and the tired feeling she can't seem to shake over the misery of the alternative.

"Like _hell!_ " Brenda scoffs. peering over at her from behind her glasses. "You're white as a sheet. What's wrong?"

" _Nothing's_ wrong." Aiko insists, but the strangled sound of her voice is indicative of anything but. Just as much as she wants Brenda to believe it, to quit hounding her, maybe she wants herself to believe it too. "Nothing's wrong." The redo comes across more convincing, at least Aiko thinks so. But her best friend's face shows no acceptance of the sort.

"I'm not stupid, Ai-" Both girls are made aware of a new third presence in the room. For once, Aiko thinks that little Sheila Inoue's presence is a saving grace when she ambles into the kitchen, all smiles and oblivious gaiety.

That relief only manages to last a brief moment. "Hey, Shel, didn't you say you wanted to play dolls after lunch? You should probably run up and get them, huh?" Brenda is quick to come up with a reason to get the child out of the room, even if for just one more minute. Evidently, Sheila is none the wiser, for she nods and takes off just as quickly as she came in, lavender braids whipping behind her as she darts back upstairs. 

Brenda hardly even bothers to wait until she knows for sure that Sheila is out of earshot before returning her attention to Aiko. "Look, I'm not trying to give you the third degree." Brenda explains, clearly more worried than she is annoyed. "But you won't eat anything at school, it doesn't look like you had anything at home, and you still aren't eating now. I get that you've been sick, but _still_. Something's obviously the matter." She reaches over the table, placing her hand on Aiko's arm, a pitying sympathy in her gaze. "And I'm not saying that I'm scared you're doing it on purpose-" 

If Aiko's focus wasn't somewhere else entirely, she'd have felt offended at the fact that Brenda had even implied that. But she feared there were bigger issues at hand than her friend's incorrect prediction.

"It's not like that, Brenda." Tears prickle at Aiko's vision, leaving her eyes glassy. "It isn't like that at _all_." She doesn't want to talk about this anymore, doesn't want to acknowledge that any of it is real. She wishes Brenda would just understand that and leave her be.

"Then _what_ is it?" Brenda is almost begging, trying to pry the answer out of her. The look on her face makes Aiko hurt, adds to that horrible sinking feeling within her. She's not used to being fretted over, and she wishes Brenda wouldn't. The closest she's even come is her brother's occasional round of questions, but Daichi's normally monotone inquiries were nothing compared to the pained whisper in which her friend speaks. Unwavering blue eyes bore a hole into her head and Aiko doesn't want to say anything, just wants Brenda to drop the subject and quit feeling so sorry for her because she is _fine,_ but in truth, she knows she isn't and it tears her apart to keep this to herself no matter how much she wants to. 

She spits each word as quickly as she can, just to be rid of it, as though it were acid on her tongue. "I think I'm pregnant."

 _There_. She's given her an answer, and it hangs in the air for Brenda to make of it what she will. 

Aiko starts to wonder if she's even heard her, though, for how long the room remains still and silent. Brenda's expression has shifted, becoming more collected than before, but if she believes her or not, she certainly doesn't let it show. There is nothing for Aiko to hear, aside from the fleeting noise of cars passing down the street and what she assumes must be the shuffle of Sheila upstairs, still evidently rummaging through her toy box. Aiko dreads having to repeat herself, but she thinks she may very well have to. 

That is until Brenda speaks again, and where her prior worry has assuaged, a new one has cropped up in its place. "You're _sure_?"

"No, but-" Aiko still doesn't entirely know how she's _meant_ to be sure, "I _think_ so."

It isn't like she doesn't know that tests exist, but getting one into the house past her parents? If she had a wish for sudden death, then maybe she'd try it. She didn't think her father would care much, but her mother? She could practically hear Akane's shouts ringing in her head now, a vulture's shriek to burst her eardrums, undoubtedly about how _irresponsible_ she was and _just how stupid could she possibly be to ruin their family's reputation like that._ Mama always gave her such a hard time nowadays, and this was the one line Aiko did not want to cross under any circumstances.

Before Brenda can respond, the familiar sound of footsteps descending the stairs echoes yet again, effectively cutting off the conversation before it has even truly begun. But if the pensive look on her friend's face is anything to go by, the discussion has merely come to a pause. It is nowhere _near_ over.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Aiko does little more than pick at her dinner that night.

Even if she thinks her mother to be a pretty good cook, Mama's curry rice has never been a particular favorite of hers; even on a normal day, she thinks it's just okay. Palatable enough, but nothing too spectacular. Just something to finish and then be done with. Now, as neutral as she'd been on it before, she finds that she can't bear the sight of it, never mind the taste or smell. But at least the rice is fine on its own, as one of the few things she can stomach, so she settles with just having to resign herself to one side of her plate.

Aiko knows that her mother's gaze is on her, though she does her best to just ignore it. It isn't like anything is going to come of it, anyways. Mama normally doesn't speak to her at meals—actually, she doesn't speak to her much in _general_ , at least not unless she's upset with her—if Papa and Daichi aren't home; with Daichi staying away from home, off at university, and Papa seeing more of his office and employees than he did his own home or family most days, it's generally quiet around the house. Quiet, but hardly peaceful. Aiko always feels ill at ease when she was home alone with her mother, and her mother doesn't need to say that she felt the exact same way. There's hardly any conversation between the two of them, becoming more like co-existing strangers with a tenuous tolerance for one another than a mother and daughter with every passing day, but Aiko frequently heard her name spoken in hushed whispers during her parents' conversations. She doesn't miss the suspicious glance always thrown her way whenever she enters a room, or the rigid tone her mother addresses her with when she absolutely _has_ to; neither loving nor particularly hateful, just cold and clinical. 

Truthfully, she can't remember the last time she's ever felt certain that her mother even still loves her. She knows her mother loves her father; she sees him off to work even at the most ungodly hours of the morning, irons and presses his suits in advance of all of his important events without even really being asked to, even if she has yet to tend to her own appearance. She knows her mother loves Daichi, with how regularly she calls in to check on him and inquire about the next time he'll be able to be home, not to mention the fact that her mother's go-to topic of conversation, whether it be at father's office parties, phoning relatives back in Japan, or even just running into some family friend or another at the supermarket, is always her son, and his _stellar_ performance in school or his growing resemblance to his father in both appearance and demeanor or how his new girlfriend is the _prettiest_ thing and they make the _loveliest_ pair. 

She even knows that her mother still certainly loves Minako. Polaroids of her still linger in scrapbooks that her mother takes to flipping through religiously, and framed photographs from years past occupy most of the space on the mantle, despite far fewer of those existing than that of her still living children. The bedroom she's left behind, though long unoccupied, remains just as it was all those summers ago. It never really stopped giving Aiko the chills to merely walk past it; something about the practical shrine to her dead sister, a room frozen in time for someone who would never again return to see it, to occupy the pink covers and animate the stuffed toys who lay on the floor, gathering dust, unsettled her so. It was like reopening a dull wound whenever she thought about it too long. Her mother had a living, breathing, flesh-and-blood daughter, but her affection would always be reserved for that fragmented little skeleton that lay in a stuffy box in the earth, dissolving to sand.

But Aiko decides to let the matter slip her mind. There are much more pressing issues at hand, anyways. 

"Mama."

Evidently, Akane wasn't expecting much chatter from her end, either, judging by the way she starts at the sudden sound of her daughter's voice. "What?" She looks just about anywhere but directly at Aiko; her plate, her drink, the light of the dining room. 

"Is it alright if I spend the night at Brenda's on Friday?" To ask is really a formality, at this point, though she does it anyways. Mama never passes up a chance to get her out of the house these days. "We asked her mom earlier, and she said I could just go home with them after school."

"Sure." Her mother doesn't miss a beat, seemingly just wanting the exchange to be over already. "I don't see why not."

* * *

Normally, sleepovers at the Whites' were never this nerve-wracking.

If anything, the place had become a second home to Aiko by now. She'd spent her fair share of nights laying atop Brenda's comforter, flipping through some magazine or another and giving a comedic attempt at styling her friend's curls into the same elaborate 'dos as those red-carpet starlets. Mr. and Mrs. White were affable and seemed to enjoy her presence more than her own parents did. They'd ask her about school, how her classes were going, which ones she liked and didn't like the most, if anyone—any _boys_ in particular—had been giving her trouble. They'd asked after her multiple times, according to Brenda, after her visits had become somewhat less frequent given her condition. In all honesty, they treated her like the second child they didn't have. Aiko was never unhappy to be there.

But that, again, was under normal circumstances. Not under the current circumstances, where it was all Aiko could do to keep herself from looking away from the test in her hands, despite the overwhelming urge to focus her attention anywhere else. The test had cost a pretty penny of her babysitting money, obtained just hours earlier when they'd persuaded Brenda's mother to drive them to the drugstore after school for just a minute, ostensibly just to buy snacks for the night, and for once, she _hoped_ that money would turn out to have gone to waste after all. She looked back down at the stick; still nothing. Suddenly, she found the towels hung on the wall of Brenda's bathroom to be a _much_ more interesting sight.

The box had said results would take about four minutes, hadn't it? She didn't know exactly how long it had been, but it had felt like _much_ longer than that. Maybe that was a relief in its own right, though. Aiko didn't know that she even wanted an answer at all. All she wanted, truthfully, was for the entire matter to settle itself. 

And it would, wouldn't it? She wanted to think so. Maybe she wouldn't turn out to be pregnant after all. Maybe it would just be some mystery illness, the kind where she'd just need to stay in the hospital for a while, resting and undergoing a couple exams, and then she'd be good to go after however long that took. Life would continue on as normal, and she could put the temporary scare behind her. Outside of herself and her best friend, no one would even need to know any of this had happened. She didn't think she'd really need to tell Masaru. There was no sense in making him panic over a false alarm. If nothing else, this would just serve to ensure she was careful moving forward. _Way_ more careful.

She thinks another minute has passed. Aiko wills her gaze downward again, despite her own uneasiness with the mere idea of it. This thing was taking forever, so it wouldn't surprised her if there was _still_ nothing.

But there was, and how she wished there wasn't.

One blue line caught her eye first; a negative. For a split second, that had been all that Aiko needed. She wasn't pregnant, she _wasn't_. But just as quickly as her heart returned to its normal rhythm, it stopped short yet again. No matter how faint it was, there was no mistaking the sight of it; another blue line. A positive. She _was_. Aiko blinks once, then twice, then three times. When she opens her eyes again, she finds only the same sight waiting for her where it had been before.

She gives herself little time to react, finding herself more or less moving on autopilot. The test is wrapped in toilet paper and tossed into the trash without a second thought. She washes her hands in the sink, maybe scrubbing harder than she intends to, making a careful effort to avoid looking to the mirror. She walks out and into her best friend's bedroom, giving Brenda little time to ask any questions before taking a seat next to her at the end of the bed. 

Aiko hangs her head, shoulders slumped, and _sobs_.

When she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she leans into it without hesitation. Brenda's tee shirt is just fine to cry into, she supposes. "I'm sorry." Brenda smooths black hair under her hands, rubs circles into Aiko's back, anything to be a source of comfort. "I'm _so_ sorry. You're gonna be okay."

Aiko doesn't think she will be. Not now, not ever. Her life was ruined the second she'd seen those lines. What could possibly be okay now, when she'd gone and screwed everything up? What good could _ever_ come from being a mother at fifteen? Everyone was going to give her hell at school. She probably wouldn't even be able to _finish_ school, not with a baby to look after. Papa would be so disappointed with her, he wouldn't even be able to look at her. He'd be ashamed to even admit that she was his daughter. Mama was going to be furious. She barely tolerated her as it currently was; she didn't want to know what she'd do to her when she found out. And Masaru, he was going to get roped into this too. He'd think this was an intentional trick, that she'd trapped him just to make him stay. He was _hardly_ an adult, he wouldn't want this much responsibility out of nowhere. He'd hate her, and he'd hate their baby.

Their baby, _their baby_. They were going to have a baby. She was fifteen, pregnant with Masaru's child, and going to have a baby that was already growing inside of her.

Aiko hasn't the slightest idea of what she's going to do. She lets herself fall slack, curled up in Brenda's lap, absolutely inconsolable. 


	7. Little Secret

Aiko is not unfamiliar with going through the motions of normalcy.

Such an act comes as second nature to her now, if only because that is all she's ever known. It comes hand in hand with being the daughter of a Chairman, a sort of package deal in exchange for a life of relative privilege. Her father would never allow any woe or misfortune to mar their well maintained name, and such was a lesson his children had learned the second they were old enough to comprehend it. Even when life hits her with the worst it has, the only option Aiko has is to grin and bear it, and to remain ever immaculate and composed all the while.

Admittedly, she'd never expected that she'd need to lean into such knowledge to cover up her own pregnancy. Never in a million years had she thought it would come to this. But it was just her luck that it had, so what else was she meant to do? She was left with one choice and one choice only: to drag herself out of bed early each morning, no matter what form of protest her body offers in return; to pull on Michaude High's stuffy uniform, now overlaid with a dark sweatshirt; and to put a smile on her face and head out the front door, careful to never garner too much of her parents' attention.

Before, she'd always resented the fact that they'd much rather exhaust their affections on her brother and their little ghost from years past. Now, she realizes that maybe she'd taken the assurance that she was little more than background noise to them for granted. Lately, it's as though she feels their eyes burning holes right through her, analyzing every move she makes for even the most minor sign of something amiss. Maybe her mind is playing tricks on her, for their gazes seem to be anywhere but on her when she turns to meet them, but that doesn't make it any less disconcerting. She mustn't slip up now, or they'll definitely know.

She doesn't know what she'll do if they know. She hardly even knows what to do with herself now, when all knowledge of her little secret lies within her and her ever fragile attempt at a disguise. 

She knows she certainly isn't going to let her parents know anytime soon, and that much is guaranteed. She'd much rather die than have that conversation with her parents, because she _knows_ them. She knows how they'll react. Papa is normally the more levelheaded of the two, but she doesn't doubt that'll go out the window at the faintest suggestion of a crack in the family's polished image. Aiko was his only remaining daughter; perhaps not his favored child, but he had yet to abandon all hope for her future. Perhaps, if it suited the company well enough, he'd see to it that she'd be the pampered bride of a business partner's son, some successful young man or another. He couldn't very well do that under _these_ circumstances; how could their family even dare show their faces in public then? Mama is harsh enough already, and Aiko shudders to think of how much worse it could possibly get. She'd surely be on the receiving end of a laundry list of cruel names and allegations: a stupid, irresponsible child; a selfish brat who cares for nothing and no one but herself and her own desires; an ungrateful _whore_ who has ruined herself and their family for good. 

Aiko doesn't think she's any of those things. At least, she's tried hard not to be. But she'd have to be foolish to think her parents wouldn't see it that way, no matter how much she could try to convince them otherwise. 

Even so, she finds that her biggest worry lay not with what would happen to her if her parents found out; rather, she fears for what will become of the life growing inside of her. Sure, she can't say for certain that she even has a smidgen of a plan as to what she'll do when the baby arrives—in all honesty, it seems so distant that Aiko still can't fathom such a reality, and she doesn't think that she even really wants to, not when accounting for each and every step of the way only serves to make the entire situation that much more _real_ , happening to _her_ in her _own_ life and not to some perfect stranger even if she wished that were the case—but although she has yet to make a proper decision, at least she still _can_ make one. If it were left in her parents' hands, they'd pay little mind to any of her wishes. Everything would happen their way, for she was their daughter before she was ever her own person, and as if they would ever care if their decision was painful and irreversible and far from the realm of her own consideration. 

Could they really _make_ her get rid of the baby, even if she didn't want to? Aiko doesn't know if that's even legal off the top of her head—to be fair, she didn't think that was something she'd need to know—but she doesn't want to find out. Just the thought of it is enough to send shivers down her spine, so maybe ignorance is bliss; while she still has time to be ignorant, that is. She certainly wouldn't put it past them to try, regardless.

She tries to push all of that to the back of her mind, to avoid making herself sick with worry as she is apt to do. Maybe, if she just forces herself to concentrate on making it through another school day, things will work themselves out. It's a laughably juvenile thought, and she knows it, but it's all she has. There's nothing she longs for nowadays than the times where her biggest concerns really were trying to keep herself focused through an entire hour of Algebra or how she'd spend her lunch period if her best friend wasn't in attendance, but she can still pretend that's the case, can't she? At least for a while, she thinks, until she's got a solid plan and isn't absolutely _terrified_ of what the future might hold. 

* * *

Mornings go by as uneventful as always. Though, to be fair, Aiko couldn't exactly be expected to notice anything different when her main priority was just trying to keep herself _awake_ for her first few classes. It's easier said than done, when whatever lesson she's in turns into white noise and she catches her eyelids falling for the thousandth time that period, only to snap open when her teacher inevitably chides her for it yet again. Maybe it isn't as much of a nuisance as her ever persistent nausea is, but it's still quite annoying. Especially considering she's been too tired to do much of anything lately, consequently meaning she's found herself going to bed much earlier than normal. Those extra hours are apparently all for naught, though, when her entire body feels like it's made of lead the next morning.

At least she had fifth period to look forward to, though. Their English teacher had let them pick their own seats, so she'd been given the chance to sit next to Brenda. He hardly cared what they did so long as they got their work in, so they normally just used the time to talk or make plans for the weekend. Sometimes Aiko would use it for homework she hadn't gotten to the night before, or just to put her head down for a few minutes if there was a lecture. Either way, it was a much needed break, especially considering she had Gym as her very next class; she felt like she was practically at death's door every period, but she can only bring in so many excuse notes or just sit out before it starts to get concerning. 

When Aiko heads to her locker to grab her things for next period, she sees Brenda already standing there, leaning against the next locker over. It's not unusual; it only really makes sense that they'd walk to their next class together. She's preoccupied, cleaning the lenses of her glasses with her shirt tail, but she looks back up when Aiko opens her locker.

"Hey!" Brenda greets with her usual joviality. "How're you holding up?"

"How do you think?" Aiko laughs, maybe a touch more sarcastic than she intended to sound. "Almost _died_ of heatstroke last period. McNeil's room is always boiling, I swear."

"Seriously?" Brenda reaches over for a second, tugging at the thick material of Aiko's sweater. "Just take your sweater off, then." She snickers as though it were the most obvious solution in the world; she isn't _technically_ wrong, but Aiko has her reasons to believe otherwise. 

"I kind of can't." Aiko shakes her head, swapping a textbook in her backpack for another from her locker. "Anyways, how'd _your_ fourth go?" She hopes Brenda will take the hint and let her change the topic, because the last thing she wants right now is to get into anything relating to her current _predicament_. She'd much rather hear about anything else, no matter how trivial it was.

" _Boooring_." Brenda singsongs, leaning back against the locker. "We had a test, so we had to sit there for the entire period because some idiot took forever to finish."

"Oh, that sucks." Even so, Aiko's glad to hear it, if only because she thinks Brenda has forgotten about the original topic. "I've got one in fourth, too, but it's not till Monday."

Such a feeling is short-lived, however, because Brenda's focus quickly shifts back. Evidently, something about the previous answer didn't seem quite right to her. "Wait- wait." Brenda halts the conversation. "What do you mean you 'can't'?" She questions, eyeing Aiko up and down, clearly perplexed. She drops her voice down to a whisper, despite the chances that anyone would overhear them being quite low as they were; everyone else was much too caught up in their own conversations or scrambling to be on time to pay any mind to the pair off to the side. "It's not like you can even tell right now, you know."

"I _know._ " Aiko groans, exasperated. She just wants to be left alone about this. "But when you _can_ tell, it'll look weird if I just suddenly start wearing a jacket and can never take it off." Maybe it isn't the _best_ thought process, but it's all she has in terms of thinking ahead. "It's just easier to start doing it now than to make it obvious later."

"Yeah, because what's going to look weird in a couple months is the jacket and _not_ the baby that you're gonna pop out out of nowhere." Brenda deadpans, giving the other girl an incredulous look. "You _can't_ be serious."

"You don't have to make it sound like I'm stupid, Brenda." Aiko scowls, being careful not to slam her locker door entirely as she shuts it. "What would _you_ do, huh?"

"I don't know, not just _ignore_ the whole thing? _Tell_ someone, maybe?" Brenda states.

"I'm _not_ ignoring it and I _have_ told someone. _You_ know." Aiko retorts, crossing her arms.

"I don't count, Aiko!" Brenda exclaims, flushing a mild pink when she realizes she's being louder than she means to be. It garners them a few stares from passing classmates, and the girls take this as a cue that they should probably start heading to their next class. "I mean your boyfriend, your parents. Someone that can actually help you figure this out." 

Aiko loves Brenda like a sister, and the feeling is mutual. That much is only natural; they've been best friends since they were thirteen, seeing each other through the last two grades of middle school and now, the beginning of high school. But as of right now? Aiko doesn't think she's ever wanted to just slap her silly more. Of course, Brenda would think the situation could be resolved so easily when she wasn't the one going through it. What sort of trouble would Brenda be in if Aiko's parents found out? How angry would Masaru be at the blonde when the news was broken to him that he might be a father? It wouldn't affect her at all, yet she seemed to think she had all the answers. 

"I don't need anyone's help, and I don't need you telling me what to do." She snaps, not missing the way her friend flinches at the sharp tone. "It's my problem, so what does it matter to _you?_ " 

"It matters because you're my best friend, and I'm worried about you." Brenda stresses, unwavering. "You can't just do all of this by yourself. You're at least gonna have to get checked out eventually."

"And I _will_ , but that's my business." Likewise, Aiko doesn't back down from her own position. Her words are rushed, forced out in one breath, if only to avoid the realization that she's fighting a losing battle. She knows Brenda has a point, she _knows_ that. But even so, she's still angry, with either herself or her friend, and she wants nothing more than to have the last word this time. "Not yours, so-"

"Do what you want, Aiko. I'm not going to make you do anything." Brenda interjects before she can finish, speaking with a sigh. Her tone is akin to a scolding mother's (' _not mad, just disappointed'_ ), almost entirely too weary for an adolescent. "I'm just saying, you can't just hide it forever."

No, she supposes she can't. She knows full well that she can't, actually. But she also knows full well that she isn't ready for the alternative. She's only fifteen, for God's sake. She's hardly given much thought to a family of her own; on the few occasions that she has, her visions find her older, married to a loving, well-to-do husband whose appearance varies based on whatever celebrity's features she's currently found herself entranced with, with a child or two whose arrival into this world had been meticulously planned for. Never have they found her not even two full years into high school, with the baby's father blissfully unaware, an entire ocean away, and just as much of an unprepared child as she is.

Aiko wishes, even if it is far too late, that _something_ would work out the way she wanted it to for once.

* * *

That afternoon, Aiko finds herself in rather uncomfortable company.

Despite Aiko being the only one of the children remaining at home, she and her mother don't often spend too much time together. It isn't that one or the other of them is constantly out and about; it isn't untrue that Aiko does find herself spending more time at the Whites' than she maybe ought to, especially nowadays, but it isn't like she spends every waking moment there. It has simply become an unspoken rule: she doesn't bother Mama, and Mama doesn't bother her. Akane keeps to herself, occupying her time with daytime soaps, keeping the house orderly, or chattering away to faraway relatives on the home phone; likewise, Aiko mostly stays up in her bedroom, spending only a brief few minutes downstairs when she needs to. Truth be told, they only really interact for her father's sake, for the few moments where he is home, to allow him the pride of having such a 'perfect' family to provide for; an elegant, devoted wife who keeps their home and the children in line, a studious son sure to follow in his own footsteps, and a quiet daughter who keeps her head down and causes them none of the trouble most girls her age are wont to cause. 

Aiko wonders how such an illusion hasn't splintered and shattered to pieces in front of him already, but she figures it is easy to maintain when his mind is always elsewhere. On multiple occasions, she's seen her father, brows furrowed and a pen clutched tightly in one hand, leafing through piles upon piles of papers, often far later than anyone else would consider a reasonable hour to _still_ be working. She figured that was likely what he thought of when seated at the table with his wife and daughter, his thoughts much too revolved around what needed to be done later to notice the lack of any real warmth in their sparse, stilted conversations.

Earlier this week, during one such contrived discussion, her mother had told Aiko not to make any plans for the upcoming weekend.

( _"We're going to dinner with your brother this Saturday." Akane hummed. "In Seattle, of course."_

_Aiko figured that was as good of an explanation as any for why the woman seemed to be in that much more of a good mood. "Okay." She shrugged; she didn't really feel too much about it, one way or another. At the very least, it would be a fine distraction from her current crisis for a few hours. She supposed she could ask Daichi how school and life in general had been treating him then, since she'd never been allowed to get so much as one word in during her mother's regular calls to him. She'd admit that she missed her brother some, even if they'd never been the closest. He may not be her very best friend, but he was still nice enough, and the only other person in the house who cared to acknowledge her existence._

_"We finally get to meet that new girlfriend of his." Her mother continued, fixing Aiko with a critical look. "So we'll go shopping on Friday. I want- We want you looking presentable." Akane looked over to her husband for support, Hiroshi nodding his agreement instantly._

_"Wouldn't want to embarrass your brother, would you? It's been a while since he's brought a girl around." Hiroshi joked, though his flat delivery made it hard to find much humor there. Nonetheless, Aiko forced a polite chuckle, shaking her head._

_"Then it's settled." Akane announced, as though she'd left Aiko with much of a choice to begin with. "I'll pick you up after school. Don't dawdle; it's just meant to be a quick trip."_ )

 _So much for a quick trip_ , Aiko can't help but think to herself as she trails behind her mother among the glittering racks. She doesn't know how long they've been in this particular store—she knows they've been out for a good hour or two in total, hopping from shop to shop after inevitably failing to find anything that suited her mother's particular tastes—but she wants nothing more than to get the afternoon over with and head home. The school day has taken enough out of her as is, never mind this entire excursion. 

In all honesty, Aiko doesn't even know why her mother's placing so much importance on what she wears tomorrow evening. It's not like it's _her_ girlfriend they're going to see, and she seriously doubts this girl's going to break up with her brother because his little sister's outfit isn't up to par. Besides, haven't they only been going out for, what, not even a month? For all anyone knows, they could break up next week over something ridiculous and all of this effort would be in vain.

"Aiko," Akane calls to her, walking over to the girl with a dress in hand. She pulls her by the hand, over to one of the shop's mirrors, and holds the article out in front of her. "How about this one?"

The dress is a dark navy blue color, short sleeved, and comes to about knee length. It looks nice enough, although admittedly, it isn't anything spectacular, nor an outfit that Aiko would select for herself. Then again, Mama always shoots down anything that she chooses for herself anyways, so she's become accustomed to that at this point. 

"It's okay." Is all she can muster in response, though it's not like it makes much of a difference. Even if her mother is asking for it, Aiko doesn't think her own opinion will necessarily matter in the end. Not by the way Mama looks her over, first in the mirror and then directly at her, with pursed lips and a decisive glint in her eyes. 

"Go and try it on, then." Akane passes the hanger over to her, motioning to the nearby fitting room. "I want to see it."

Aiko wordlessly does as she's told, walking off into one of the open rooms. Pulling off her uniform, she can't help but scrutinize her body in the mirror, searching for any obvious changes where there still are none. She turns to look at herself from the side, running a hand over her abdomen.

Anything? No. Of course there wouldn't be. Not this early, anyways. Oh- maybe? She swears her stomach looks just the _tiniest_ bit bigger, but then she turns just a _little_ more and- she's got to stop freaking herself out like this. She doesn't look any different, not at all. Her stomach is flat as it has always been, lacking even the smallest ridge. She's just being paranoid, and she knows it, but it's hard not to worry. 

Pulling the dress on over her head, Aiko guesses that's one way to fix the problem, at least temporarily. She can't see much of herself in the outfit, which, despite ostensibly being her size, feels like it fits a little bigger than it is meant to. She doesn't think it's flattering in the slightest—Mama _did_ pick it, so naturally, that would be the case—, and if anything, she feels entirely shapeless. It's not an unfamiliar feeling; in comparison to most of the girls at her school, Aiko thinks that she only has the slightest curve to her hips, never mind much of a chest to speak of. But familiar doesn't equate to comfortable in this case. Bottom line: in her opinion, it looks incredibly tacky on her. 

Whatever, she'll just step out and see what Mama's verdict on it is.

Aiko walks out of the changing room with uneasy steps, turning to find her mother looking at her expectantly. When Akane catches sight of her, her lips draw into a thin line. Aiko isn't sure what to make of that. On one hand, she wouldn't exactly be too upset if Mama decided this wasn't her favorite dress either. On the other hand, maybe she'd prefer to just suck it up and get this one to avoid having to spend another hour here.

Akane pinches and pulls at the clothing; adjusting a sleeve here, fanning the skirt out there. The expression on her face remains the same, neutral yet somehow disapproving. Holding her daughter by the shoulders, she turns her one way or another, getting a full picture of how the outfit looks. If Aiko could, she'd have pushed her away in an instant, but she keeps her arms slack at her side. She's never been much of a fan of being essentially posed like a doll, but it's an entirely new level of unnerving now. She does all she can to resist the urge to pick at her nails, stopping after realizing that she's started again, praying her mother doesn't notice anything. It isn't like there's anything to notice, and Aiko knows that to some degree, but she can't be sure of it. Mama always seems to know more than Aiko cares to tell her. 

"It's kind of baggy," Aiko comments, if only to break the silence. "I think they run big, maybe."

"No, you're just too skinny for it." Akane scoffs dismissively, turning Aiko to the side yet again. "It'd fit better if you ate right."

If Aiko wasn't already feeling embarrassed enough, that sure didn't do anything to help. She wishes she'd have just kept her mouth shut; maybe, then, Mama would've done the same. She should've expected that her mother would say something like that, but that doesn't make the remark sting any less than it does. As if she needs to be reminded that she's becoming skin and bones. It isn't like she can help it; an unexpected pregnancy and the stress that comes with it don't really create optimal conditions for maintaining a healthy diet. Then again, that also isn't something she can just _say_ right now. So she lets the downturn of her lips speak for itself, despite knowing that the chance of her mother even recognizing her change in expression are slim to none.

"I'm _trying,_ Mama." It's a pathetic mumble, but all she can really say in return.

"Try harder." Akane responds blankly, finally releasing her grip on the girl. She doesn't look pleased, nor displeased, but it seems she's made up her mind. "It looks good enough. You're wearing it tomorrow." She waves back in the direction Aiko came from. "Go get changed."

As much as Aiko doesn't like this outfit, she's at least glad that this is all over. She nods, heading back to the changing room, and wastes no time in getting out of the dress and back into her original outfit once she's there. She wonders about what she'll do when they get back home: shower, obviously, then probably just go lay down in her room. All in all, the day has been pretty taxing, so she deserves as much. _That Night_ is supposed to be on TV later, so maybe she'll watch it. She's heard it's supposed to be pretty good, and she figures she'll like it, seeing as her taste includes the good majority of romance films. She doesn't feel well enough to do much of anything else, anyways.

She walks back out, following after her mother to the register. There's a bit of a line there; not much, but just enough for Aiko to have to bite back a whine at the sight of it. Akane, seemingly just as ready to leave as Aiko is, is already rooting through her purse in search of her wallet.

"Ma-" The girl pipes up, but her mother seems to have read her mind before she'd even breathed a word.

"Here." Akane, sighing, takes the hanger out of Aiko's hands, swapping it with her car keys. 

"Thank you." Aiko replies, met with little more but a hum of acknowledgement in return, turning to walk out of the shop's doors. 

The car is a little ways away, but she can still see it from where she is. She's just glad to finally be left alone for now, even if it's only going to be for five or so minutes or however long it actually takes Mama. The walk there ends up taking no time at all, and, ironically enough, she doesn't pay much attention to what it looks like outside until she's climbed into the passenger side of the vehicle. It's probably for the best that they're going home now, she figures, since the gray clouds amid the sky point to the likelihood of yet another rainy evening.

There really isn't much else to do besides peer out of the car windows, so Aiko occupies herself with just that. The streets are pretty busy, but that much is par for the course on a Friday afternoon. The sidewalks were interspersed with people as far as the eye can see: couples, hand in hand, pointing to items displayed behind glass windows that their darling simply has to have; girls her own age, in groups of two or three or four, labeled bags hanging from their arms and raucous laughter spilling from their lips; a family or two, excitable children prattling to parents who nod along and try to keep them from walking too close to the road.

And yet, through all of the crowd, one particular family stands out to Aiko.

On any normal occasion, she hardly would have spared them a second glance. There is nothing truly extraordinary about the three of them, nothing that would make any other stranger who came upon them stop and stare. The parents look to be an average young couple, likely in their early twenties if she has to wager a guess, merely walking down the street as everyone else is. But there is just something about the obvious beam on the man's face as he looks, arm wrapped around his beloved, to her and their sleeping infant cradled in her arms. Something about the way she looks back at him, holding their baby just that much closer, as though heaven is in her very eyes. Something that puts the hollow ache of longing in her chest and that familiar sickness in her stomach and...a vague hope, somehow, to the forefront of her mind.

She allows her mind to wander, for once without the usual impending doom. Sure, perhaps her dreams for her future had never predicted her having a family under these circumstances, but did that necessarily have to mean it wouldn't work out? She finds she can picture it easily when she puts her mind to it: walking around town with Masaru, his arm slung protectively over her, their child fast asleep in her arms. She can even picture entirely different scenarios: standing above a crib with him at her side, lightly tracing a finger over the chubby cheek of a cooing baby; looking on proudly, elated tears springing to her eyes, as she watches their toddler's first steps; a fairytale wedding, Aiko donning a flowing gown of gleaming white and trailing down the aisle to the love of her life, the most handsome man she'd ever seen, their son or daughter in attendance, presenting rings or sprinkling flowers about the aisle.

She cannot deny the reality that they are young, probably much too young to start a life together so soon, but that doesn't have to change anything in the end. At the moment, she finds that all of her worries have dissipated into nothing. Masaru will stay with her after all, she's certain of it. She'll keep her baby and somehow, someway, they'll figure things out together. She'll live the rest of her life out with a family that can truly say they are perfect no matter how rocky their beginning was, because they will love each other and at the end of the day, that will be enough. She hopes and believes with everything in her that it will truly be enough.

The chain of daydreams ends just as soon as it begins, when the pull of the driver's side door signals her mother's return.

But for the first time in a while, a genuine smile plays upon Aiko's lips.


End file.
